Warm Hands
by Sweartoad
Summary: A slight fear of snow and steep hills makes sledding an interesting firsttime experience for Rukia. [oneshot]


Warm Hands . . . . 

I stood at the top of the hill, teetering dangerously over the edge. The white that lay all around me scared me – it had been such a long time since I had seen snow.

And snow covered everything. It fell from the sky thickly, turning to white everything it touched. And it fell into my hair, and onto my cheeks and eyelashes and nose.

In front of me, my breath rose heated, though it was lost in the sea of white – both land and sky – that surrounded me.

The small wooden box-thing I sat on terrified me, too. It felt so frail, so unstable – how on earth was I supposed to do this? My knuckles grew white as I clutched it for dear life.

"Hey, calm down."

I turned to scowl at Ichigo. He was standing beside me, stark black against the world, not even his orange hair showing from under his black hat. I had to crane my head to look up at him.

"You're telling _me_ to calm down?" I burst, the wooden box-thing underneath me wobbling. He grinned, and walked towards me, wiping an un-gloved hand across his red cheeks, the nylon jacket he wore rustling like crisp leaves in autumn.

"Just relax," he said, crouching down beside me. "It's only a sled."

"And it sends you careening off the edge of a steep hill," I muttered. He laughed again, and his voice echoed around us, breaking the silence like glass.

"I don't think it's funny," I said, moving to get up from the so-called 'sled'. I had seen sleds before. They did _not_ look like this. Weren't they usually pulled by horses through the snow?

"Hey, where are you going?" he said quickly, putting a firm hand on my shoulder and pushing me back down.

"Ichigo!" I snapped. "Let me get off!" There was a hint of panic in my voice, because of my terror at being flung off a steep hill with only a wooden box for company. I think he noticed.

"Look, it'll be fun," he said calmly, the frown almost gone from his face. "I've done this a million times – nothing will happen to you."

"Yes, but that's _you_! I've never done this before in my entire life!" I said quickly, my eyes finding the edge of the hill, and suddenly noticing just how close we were.

"Rukia," he said, and at the sound of my name I turned my eyes back to his. "Nothing will happen."

While he spoke he squeezed my shoulder. I swallowed.

"I don't trust you," I said, my voice small, because I knew that he knew that I was going to do this.

"You have to trust me," he murmured.

"I don't have to," I said, blinking and looking back to the edge. "But I will. Just this one time."

He chuckled, and then withdrew his hand from my shoulder, leaving it feeling both warm and cold at the same time. He reached down, picked up the rope that was attached to the front of the stupid sled, and began to tug it. With a jerk the contraption began to move – my breath hitched as it slid towards the edge, slowly gaining speed.

"Oh my god Ichigo!" I swore, my nails biting into the wood. The edge was almost upon me. I shut my eyes.

Suddenly, with an almighty leap forward that made me open my eyes with a shriek, the sled seemingly pushed itself over the edge, eager to be away. The wood behind me creaked – two arms thrust themselves under my own, grabbing the front of the sled – and then a warm body and a crisp nylon jacket pressed itself up behind me.

And we were off, lurching down the hill, ploughing through the snow as it parted, almost jumping, out of the way of the sled. I couldn't see anything; dips and bumps in the way were hidden from my view – my entire world was white upon white upon white.

With a jolt, the sled hit some unknown obstacle under the cover of snow and left the ground. I screamed, grasping at Ichigo's hand as I felt the sled being kicked up high into the air and then, just as roughly, returning to earth. I squeezed my eyes tight again, afraid of the snow and what it hid. Its whiteness burned my eyes even through closed lids, just as the cold burned my cheeks and nose and hands. I cried out again as yet more barriers appeared in our way – we hit a dip so fast that my stomach lurched upwards into my throat, and then dropped like a stone to the pit of my gut.

And then, finally, the sled began to slow – Ichigo's arms, so tense, relaxed, and I dared to open my eyes as the sled finally slid to a stop.

Ichigo wasted no time in standing up, and cold hit my back, so suddenly I hadn't been prepared for it. He walked around to where I could see him, grinning. I drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Don't," I said, my voice hoarse, "_ever_ make me do that again."

With a smile, he reached out a hand and pulled me upright, the other hand reaching for the sled's rope. Surprisingly, his hands, bare to winter's wrath, were so much warmer than mine.

"You can live a little, you know," he said, not letting go of my hand as he led me back up the slope. Despite myself, I snorted.

"You call that living? That looked more like suicide to me," I retorted dryly. He laughed, and grinned back at me.

"It wouldn't be exciting if there was no chance of dying," he chuckled.

"Is that your attitude to battle as well?" I asked. He just winked at me, and we said nothing more until we reached the top.

"So..." he said slowly, putting down the sled. I turned my face to him.

"Yes?"

"…" A grin slowly spread across his face. "Want to do it again?"

I scowled, and hit him over the head. That was one thing I was sure of: that when the snow melted and the spring came, and when the rolling heat of summer arrived, and rolled back to the crisp chill of autumn, Ichigo would never change.

Of that I was certain.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_So … you like? It's the second time I've posted this story up, but I think I like it a lot better now that it's in this account, and not in my other one._

_R&R, people!_

_Sweartoad_


End file.
